You wanted to come to me for the first weeks of this year; why don't you come? Not a drop of wine has passed my lips for eight weeks. I stay at home and work, and the composition of my opera was complete by New Year's Eve, and I now work at the instrumentation all night long.
My opera is to be produced at the end of February, and I am to get the takings of the second night as honorarium. Between now and then, however, I perish. I have struggled on five months, but it is no longer possible. My creditors will not be put off by talk of my opera. I must have money, if I am not to go distracted and if the few thalers which I save each time from my salary are not to be taken away by distraint.
Do not give me anything, but buy up the receipts for my opera. If you have faith, you are the one who has nothing to fear by that. I estimate the value at 100 thalers - will you give me so much for it? If I do not get the money within the month I dare not appear here any more. If you wanted to prove me well, then you would help me now. Forgive me for filling my letter up with this, but when this common misery oppresses me I have no mind left for intellectual interests.
My family know nothing; they have cut me off from them. Besides yours, I know only one true heart, and without that of Minna I should already have perished.
Richard Wagner
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Volume 1, ed. Altmann/Hull (London: Dent, 1927), No. 30